Let The Right One In
by ricky17744
Summary: 'Neither spoke just stared. Ice blue dancing with the darkest brown Rick had ever seen' A retelling of Rick and Michonne's relationship from the prison days up to the present. Rated M for violence, sex and language.
1. Visions

_Right...this fic will be focusing on Rick and Michonne's relationship from the prison to the present. This is a retelling to a degree, although a lot of it will be my interpretation and of course eventual sexy times. The plot will sway from the_ _TV series with some different twists and I hope you enjoy!_

 **Let the right one in**

Chapter one: Visions

The cell was dark, dingy and damp. The only light from the hallway fading as the last flame from a flickering candle was softly blown out.

It was happening again. A descent into the dark depths of a fragile mind, the nightmare forcing it's victim awake with a devastating start.

Every night was the same.

No matter how exhausted, how occupied from the day's events, as soon as his eyes shut the dreams would come. A reoccurring nightmare that haunted his mind like a ghost in the night. Cruelly snatching away any sense of progress from the crippling grief and jolting his body, harshly awake.

The dream was _always_ the same.

She stood at the edge of a high cliff waiting to jump, but he couldn't stop her. He would push through the invisible force holding him captive, finally reaching her just as she was about to fall. He would pull her arm, turning her to face him as the reality would abruptly hit him.

She was one of them. Her face looked eaten from the inside out. Decayed, rotten with flesh and bone exposed in the daylight. Her soft brown eyes no longer alive with warmth but dead beyond recognition. Even to him.

Then his body would jerk awake. The echoes of a scream ebbing into silence throughout the confined space of his cell. The disturbing image of his late wife, still played behind his eye lids as white flecks of light clouded his vision.

He wondered how many of his group in the prison would hear him each night.

No one spoke of his nightmares just like they would never speak of Lori. It was like walking on egg shells around their leader, too terrified of fuelling an outburst from just one ill advised word.

And this was how Rick liked it. How _he_ preferred it to be.

To suffer every night with these horrid visions was one thing, but to acknowledge his crumbling sanity to the others was something he just was not prepared to do.

His inner most thoughts were private, disconnected from the rest of the group. He was never a talker when it came to his deepest feelings. It just wasn't Rick Grime's style.

So he took the full pelt of anguish onto his own shoulders. Consumed with guilt beyond belief.

It was better to do that than to speak of these worrying visions.

So he eased back down onto the uncomfortable bunk. Nestling into the pillow his watery eyes shut tight, determined but anxious to full back to sleep. At least in the day he knew he was awake. At night however the dreams were so intense, so realistic that it was like reliving her death all over again.

And he couldn't catch his breath.

The atmosphere was calm now as Rick gave in to his body's need for sleep.

Tomorrow was just another day after all.

* * *

The day was unbearably hot. The Georgia sun beating rays of heat down towards the prison without mercy.

The unrelentingly heat was no excuse for laziness, however. There were lists of jobs that needed to be done and no one was more determined than Rick.

The others had seen first hand the extent of Rick's madness. Hershel was the only one brave enough to voice an opinion on the matter, insisting to Rick that these jobs could wait until the visions had subsided.

Of course the leader had other ideas. Telling Hershel " _I'm fine"_ in his most convincing voice, fooling no one but himself. He would rather burn to death under the intense rays of the sun, than to sit alone, unguarded with his thoughts.

So Hershel left the broken man to himself without further question. He understood that grief was a personal phenomenon and how Rick chose to deal with that grief was his business, no one else's.

The older man was just thankful Rick was no longer spending his time, locked away, deep within the prison's basement. With only the rotting remains of walkers for company.

* * *

It must have been noon when Rick spotted her.

The pig pen had been thoroughly cleaned and the crops watered. He now stood up high, perched on a look out post. Riffle held firm in one arm as the other scanned the deserted land beyond the prison gates, eyes squinting from the sunlight.

He had to re-adjust the binoculars when he first saw the figure roaming lifelessly across the yard.

Another vision?

He pinched the bridge of his nose, tightly closing his eyes until the image had dissipated from his mind. Only then did he look once more, hoping he wasn't completely losing it.

Gazing through the lens of the binoculars again, there she was as clear as day.

A lone woman, long legs striding fearlessly across the yard while walkers ignored her. She looked sullen, almost dazed as she marched and if Rick hadn't been staring so intently he would have missed the slight limp to her left leg.

She was wounded, but determined all the same and he realised she was making her way slowly towards the first gate of the prison.

Rick climbed down from the lookout post, riffle still armed. He paced cautiously towards the fence, bow legs coming to a stop just in front of the locked gate.

And now he could see her. Really see her.

She wasn't just a vision, she was flesh and blood. Desperate and needy as she clung to the fence. Fingers gripping hold of the metal wire as she met his cold gaze from the other side.

And she was staring. A longing within her eyes for a connection, for help.

Both of them looked at each other with an intense aggression. Rick was taken back by how intrigued he was by this stranger. There was a familiarity behind her eyes that he could instantly relate too. Suddenly the smell of rotten flesh hit the back of his nostrils and Rick realised her jeans were covered in walker guts.

Neither spoke, just stared. Ice blue dancing with the darkest brown Rick had ever seen.

He was oblivious to the sounds of footsteps behind him, or his son's voice calling. In that moment he felt oddly drawn to her, like a moth to a flame.

Then she reached down, her fingertips brushing over the wounded leg, causing her to wince in pain. There were walker's either side of her now. Snarling and growling at the smell of fresh blood coating human flesh.

One tired to bite her and she quickly pivoted. Avoiding the inevitable she pulled a long sword from her back, beheading the walker in one clean swipe. Rick could see she was struggling. Her leg now dragging, agonisingly behind her as she killed the walkers the other side, only more were closing in.

"Should we help?!" Carl's voice broke Rick from a haze and he cocked his riffle, shooting walkers through the wired fence just as she fell to the ground, exhausted.

The gate was then unlocked.

* * *

She was a dead weight against Rick's shoulder as he hurled her lifeless body, carefully down, onto the cold concrete of the holding cell's floor.

She had passed out. Her legs giving way from a mix of heat, exhaustion and pain. It was as though she had pushed her body to it's very limit, fighting through until she was truly gone.

Rick didn't feel best pleased about this outcome. He hadn't taken her in out of kindness, no. He was thirsting for information. The bag of supplies he had found by her side was filled with items too personal to his and his own. Baby formula, the exact brand and age Judith was using was amongst the goods. Rick couldn't help but feel she was here for a reason.

"She's dehydrated" He heard Hershel say, watching as the older man looked her over. Rick knelt down beside him, easing the injured leg straight until the wound came into view. it looked infected, angry almost, as the blood seeped into the fabric of her skin-tight jeans.

Hershel then passed Rick a bottle of water, encouraging him to try and rouse her. The water hit her skin in cool ribbons, soaking through the thin material of her tank top.

Her eyes slowly opened, long eyelashes fluttering against dark cheeks. The sight of the two men came in and out of focus as she found her bearings, suddenly acting out in panic.

"Easy...easy now. You're ok" There was kindness hidden within the southern twang of his words. She found herself drawn to his voice, sitting up to find his face inches from hers.

There was something about his eyes. A flicker of mystery behind the sharpness of blue, eyes that now focused just on her.

"Who are you?" He asked softly "Tell us your name"

She didn't answer. Not that she didn't want to, she just didn't feel it necessary. She would wait until he asked the right question.

"We can tend to that wound for you...give you a little food and water then send you on your way, but your gonna have to tell us where you got that formula from"

"The supplies were dropped by a young Asian guy with a pretty girl" Her voice was low, quiet but to the point.

"What happened?" Rick asked

"Were they attacked?" Hershel wondered.

"They were taken"

"Taken by who?" Rick spat, growing impatient with her reluctance to offer all the details.

"By the same son of a bitch who shot me" She spat back, aggression coating her words.

"Hey, those are our people! You tell me where they are right now!" He yelled angrily, grabbing her thigh he squeezed down hard on the gun shot wound, causing her to yelp in surprise and pain.

She drew her legs up to her chest, snatching her wounded thigh from his punishing grasp.

"Don't you ever touch me again!"

She snarled like a caged animal, biting down hard on her lip to stop from whimpering in pain.

Suddenly a crossbow was thrust in her face, the sharp point from the arrow inches from her cheek.

"You better start talkin' or you'll have more than a gun shot wound to worry bout" The archer was tall. Strength contorting under skin slick with sweat.

The heat wasn't just getting to her after all.

She looked between the two men, eyes wild.

"Find them yourself"

* * *

That evening Hershel had stayed with her.

Once again her body had flopped. Giving in to the uncontrollable urge to rest, out like a light on the hard floor. Hershel had draped a blanket across her shoulders, not that she really needed it. The night air was warm. The holding cell stuffy.

Rick approached from behind, his eyes fixated on the motionless body just laying there. Hershel heard his footsteps, turning he exited the cell, closing the door shut behind him.

"She must of been fightin' sleep for days now. She's exhausted"

Rick snorted. He didn't care how exhausted she was. All he wanted was information on his people's whereabouts.

"She's uncomfortable down there Rick, she needs a bed"

* * *

She next awoke on the hard mattress of a bunk in another holding cell, her head dizzy from thirst and hunger. Her lips dry and cracked.

"Welcome back"

That voice again. Smooth like butter but rough round the edges, startled her in the dim light.

She could just make out the shape of his face, the curve of his jaw as he sat opposite her. Lean legs sprawled out in front of him.

"Thirsty?" He asked casually.

Her tongue darted out to wet her lips, the heat down in the cell was unbearable.

"Well?" He asked again in aggravation. She got the feeling patience wasn't his strong point.

There was only silence at first, until Rick could sense her unease and he knew it was because of him.

"Look you can either die down here of thirst, or take the damn drink" he teased, his arm moving.

She could see the faint gleam of plastic from a water bottle held in his hand and her need outweighed her sense.

She nodded, with hope that she could trust him.

The water was passed her way and she drank greedily, savouring the bland flavour like it was the best thing she had ever tasted.

Rick's eyes never left her as she devoured the remains of water from the bottle. Her lips pulled free and she looked towards him, her eyes shone with gratitude.

"Thanks" She said, so softly Rick hardly heard her.

"Tell me your name" He asked again, the words delicate.

This time she answered him.

"Michonne"

"Rick" He responded.

"Hershel's gonna help fix your leg but in the meantime I suggest you start talkin'. I need to know where Maggie and Glenn are"

She could hear the desperation in his voice so she answered, part of her wishing that he had never asked.

"There's this town...West from here, called Woodbury. It's run by this guy who calls himself the Governor. Pretty boy, charming, Jim Jones type. I think they were taken there"

"Why did you come here?" Rick asked, still confused by her intentions.

"I heard your friends talking. Something about getting the supplies back to a prison"

"And how did you know where to find us?" Rick asked intrigued.

"I didn't know. I just followed the dirt track. I thought that would be my best shot"

Rick rubbed a hand through his hair, fingers gliding through the soft but tangled curls.

He was in awe that she had managed to get to the prison unharmed.

"Best shot for what?"

"For help"

* * *

The canteen was ridiculously warm, the heat penetrating from the boiler room right through to the kitchen.

Daryl sat, crossed legs resting up high on a bench, while he ate the left over remains of a can of beans. It must have been coming up to one in the morning because the prison was deathly quiet. He knew Rick would be finishing his watch from the tower any minute now and it would be his turn to take over.

The doors to the canteen swung open with force, a tired looking Rick came walking through. Daryl nodded in his direction, stuffing one last mouthful of beans before getting up. Only Rick stopped him, told him to sit back down for five more minutes.

The two men sat opposite one another on the canteen table. Rick's hair a dishevelled mess as the dampness in the air played havoc with his curls.

"Jesus it's hot tonight" he said, wiping the sweet from his brow.

Daryl studied his face. He seemed edgy, tense, but that was just Rick these days and God would everyone just get over it already

"What do you think of her...Michonne?" Rick suddenly asked, playing with his hands.

"Don't know man...she seems...different"

"Do you think we can trust her?" Rick wanted Daryl to say yes so at least if he did fuck up, it wasn't just his doing.

The archer stretched his back, resting a foot across his right knee he looked into the cold blue of the other man's eyes.

"I don't think we have a choice"

Rick sighed in frustration. He knew Daryl was right. They needed Michonne to find Woodbury, their only hope of saving Maggie and Glenn.

"As soon as we find them, she's gone"

* * *

That next morning was just as hot and Rick was up bright and early.

He was in the yard, tending to the pigs when a glimpse of feathery light fabric caught his eye, mesmerizing him into a trance. He looked for the dress but it was gone, until suddenly it was there again, right by the gate.

The bottom of the dress swayed lightly from an invisible breeze that only he could see. He followed the vision loyally, captivated by the promise it held.

He now stood by the gate, frantically tugging the keys from his back pocket he unlocked the door urgently.

And there he stood. Only for a moment as he watched the image of his wife flicker, like a TV with poor reception. Then she was by the lake and Rick couldn't help himself, he had to get to her.

Hershel now stood in the yard with Michonne in tow. He was used to this routine, as every morning he would check on Rick. Determined to pull the leader's attention away from his grief, if only for a moment.

When he spotted Rick chasing something that wasn't there he exhaled a worried breath. Michonne looked to the older man, then back towards Rick, confusion knotting her brow.

"What is he doing?" she asked.

"I wish I knew"

* * *

Michonne was laid out on her stomach, her hands flat either side of her head. She pushed up from the ground, feeling the familiar strain run through her toned arms.

She was distrubed by the sound of the cell door being unlocked, but carried on with her exercises regardless.

"You should really be restin' up" That southern charm again.

She ignored his advice. Continuing the push ups a few more mintues, stopping only when she was ready.

She could feel his eyes on her, burning through her clothes to the skin beneath as he traced every cruve.

She suddenly stopped and jumped up, standing metres away by the bunk. Rick moved forward, closing the distance between them ever so slightly.

"We're plannin' on findin' Maggie and Glenn. I need you to take me to woodbury. I need to get a feel for the place before we plan our move"

Michonne stood in the corner silent. He was asking for help and she wanted to abide.

"Your trusting me now?" She mocked, eyebrow raised.

Rick's eyes shifted round the room, he was finding her face very distracting.

"I don't have a choice" He said firmly.

She crossed her arms, meeting his eyes from across the room.

"I can take you there"

"Good. We'll leave tomorrow, bright and early. I'll come by in the mornin' to get you"


	2. Help

_Hope you enjoy this chapter, let me know what you think._

 **Let the right one in**

Chapter Two: Help

* * *

"I need you to take care of things while I'm gone"

Daryl nodded, slinging the crossbow lazily over his broad shoulder. This was a compliment from Rick without a doubt. The leader entrusting the safety of the prison to him while he was gone, was something that made the archer feel warm from the inside out.

Always the man of few words, Daryl watched as Rick armed the gun holsters clinging desperately to his narrow hips.

His eyes followed Rick to the door, turning slightly on his heel to watch him leave.

"Be careful" He muttered, uncertain if Rick had heard the profound worry in his voice.

* * *

Michonne was sleeping when Rick thundered into the holding cell unannounced. He clapped his hands loudly, waking her up with a surprised start.

"Get up. It's time to go"

She wiped the encrusted sleep from her eyes, yawning, she slowly stood up. She was hungry, her stomach as empty as her pockets. The thought of a road trip without breakfast did little to settle her nerves, not that Rick could care less.

Somehow he did care though, because now his cold eyes had softened. Maybe even with a glimmer of sympathy.

"You've got ten minutes to get sorted. Grab yourself somethin' to eat from the canteen and meet me outside in the yard"

With that he left. Leaving her standing in the cell alone.

* * *

Outside the air was cooler than the day before. The sun just starting to make an appearance through the greenery of trees.

Michonne spied Rick standing with Daryl outside the gate, the engine of the car already quietly humming.

She made her way towards them, greeting Daryl with a sly smile.

"My katana?" she asked Rick.

He shook his head, looking down towards scuffed boots he moved behind her to open the passenger door.

"If things go south, I'm armed. Get in"

His voice was thick with Hostility as Michonne slid down onto the seat. She watched as Rick nodded towards Daryl, making his way to the drivers side he got in. Long legs adjusting to the space as his boots found the peddles.

The archer opened the solid double gates as Rick put the car in gear and they were off. Gliding along the dusty dirt track, bumps and holes galore.

Michonne sat sullen. Her face indignant as Rick drove the car west, picking up speed with each passing tree.

She turned to the window, gazing out across blue haze of sky, the sun now casting shadows along the wide girth of the road.

She stole a glance towards Rick. He was deeply concentrating, eyes narrowed on the distance ahead. She zoned in on the curve of his jaw, the scruffy stubble on his chin. He must have felt her gaze burning holes because he turned towards her, clearing his throat when their eyes met.

Michonne never looked away.

Rick felt he should say something. _Anything_ to avoid the awkward silence that now overwhelmed the car.

"So er...how far is this place"

Michonne looked ahead. "The last time I knew I was on foot. Shouldn't take too long in the car though"

 _She was on foot._

Rick was still amazed by that detail.

"So why did you leave?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

Michonne was silent for some time. Maybe she would never actually answer. Maybe she just didn't want to. She continued to stare blankly ahead, her eyes glowing darker with an intense look Rick couldn't quite pin point.

"I didn't trust him"

* * *

"It's not far from here now. We should walk the rest on foot" Michonne advised. The car then pulled off the beaten track and rolled to a gentle stop.

"So what makes you trust _me_ then?" Rick asked, his stare intense.

Her back straightened into the seat, avoiding his eyes she thought over the question.

"What makes you think I trust you?"

"Well your here. In a car, weapon-less"

"That wasn't my choice to be weapon-less" She shot back, dark eyes fiery.

Rick was studying her now. Really studying her. Her sarcastic comments were designed to mask the hurt beneath, he could see that. Feel it. Although her body language failed her. She was composed but the tension was mapped across each ripple of muscle, just begging to be explored.

"You must trust me enough to drive you out here" Rick calmly stated, his head titling to look out the window.

"I want to help" She coldly shot back. What was he trying to get at exactly?

Thing was Rick didn't entirely trust her. How could he?

She had found her way to the prison from a place he knew nothing about, his people lost, supposedly taken there, kidnapped.

"What makes you want to help me?" he asked, his piercing gaze now staring into the deepest depths of her eyes.

"I want to help you because I can. I trust you because you don't trust me"

* * *

They were moving now through bushes, branches and leaves. The dampness in the forest clung to the air, masking their bodies in sweat.

Michonne was cautiously leading Rick to the outskirts of Woodbury. Somewhere they wouldn't be spotted by the men keeping watch on the gate, armed and dangerous.

Having spent the last few weeks there, she knew a passage way the Governor's men would use to slip in and out undetected and this was where they were heading.

The wound in her thigh started to throb as she moved with the stealth of a hungry cat through the woodland, occasionally stopping to rest the leg. Rick could sense her discomfort and felt guilty for putting her through more strenuous exertion, but this could not wait another day. He needed to find Maggie and Glenn, he would not rest until he did.

And Michonne was the vessel he needed. He was wary of her intentions, his gun now close to hand. The hope was strong that she wasn't in fact leading him into an eventual trap. That this wasn't all some ploy in favour of the governor.

"There it is " Her almost black eyes were peeping past the vibrant green of leaves. It was a beautiful contrast, almost savage.

Rick absorbed the image of the gates, surveying every fine detail for the plan he would later con-cock to get inside. For now though he observed the henchmen on duty. They looked trained beyond the experience of the apocalypse, maybe even ex soldiers?

"Follow me and keep low"

Rick did as he was told. They moved through the bushes in silence, their bodies moving gracefully together until they reached the wall of Woodbury.

"You first. I'm not takin' any chances" His voice was rough, condescending almost.

Michonne's eyes portrayed an understanding of Rick's distrust, somehow putting him at ease. She slid her body through the small passage way as Rick followed, mimicking her actions until they were both inside.

She led Rick towards the end of the short cut so he could get a better look of the town.

 _And boy, what a town!_

He took in the view. The zone looked quiet, surreal and a lot bigger than he had expected.

The unsettling noise of boots clicking against gravel startled them both.

Without warning a man came strolling towards the entrance of the passageway. Terrified of being discovered, Michonne pushed back through the narrow walkway, edging along the wall until they were both out of sight.

Michonne could feel Rick's lean body behind her back. Strong arms pushing towards the wall to hold his weight off her. Only it wasn't working and she felt the crotch of his rough jeans rub instantaneously against her backside.

There were frantic movements to avoid the unwanted contact. Michonne shooting Rick a look of indifference as his eyes flickered upwards from embarrassment.

"Sorry" came the whispered response, his eyes darting around the enclosed space.

* * *

The journey back to the prison had got Rick thinking.

If Michonne had never turned up yesterday, baby formula and all, he would never have known about Woodbury.

Never known about a Governor or where to even find him.

He owed Michonne that much.

He kept stealing sly looks now again. Watching as her face revealed nothing, hiding everything and more.

She was mysterious to a dangerous degree and his trust in her was still undecided. Although, she had in fact pushed him back against the wall when things could have gone south, only his blood had gone south instead.

South towards his groin when they had accidentally touched and he hoped to God she hadn't noticed. However, it had been a welcome distraction to a mind long gone, a mind so preoccupied with thoughts of Lori that the sensation of just touching someone else, no matter how inappropriate, was a much welcome relief.

"Keep your eyes on the road"

That voice, so deadpan, dipped in sarcasm and rolled in boredom startled him in his seat.

 _She doesn't miss anything, does she?_

"Don't be getting any ideas. I came with you to help find your friends, not to be touched up against a wall"

Rick felt his cheeks glow ruby red.

He looked towards her, a devilish smile playing across her face. She was joking.

 _Thank God._

Or maybe she was flirting? Whatever she was doing, Rick liked her style.

"Well if you hadn't trapped me there" he shot back, testing the waters.

She chuckled shyly, looking to her lap.

"I did"

* * *

Laughter echoed throughout the vast space of the canteen, the culprit almost choking on her beans.

Daryl Dixon looked pleased with himself to say the least, he watched in fascination as her smile faded, replacing it with his own.

Rick stood on the sidelines watching from the shadows.

He had came by to pick up a can of something, only now was far too invested watching Michonne and Daryl share a private joke and a sharp feeling stabbed at his gut.

She was laughing.

A sound so delicate, so rare to this shitty world they now inhabited, that he couldn't help but drink in every last drop. It was something these prison walls had been deprived off for far too long.

A woman's laughter.

Or just anyone's laughter for that matter.

And now Rick couldn't help but acknowledge that Daryl was the reason behind her hysteria. _What the hell was so funny?_

A feeling all too familiar bubbled within his stomach, was he jealous?

Daryl felt the nudge of someone's shoulder, it was Rick's. The leader eased onto the bench smoothly, discreetly pushing Daryl to the end so he could sit opposite Michonne.

 _What the hell man?_ Daryl thought, but then Rick had always been a cock block.

"We need to start thinkin' bout how we're gonna get into Woodbury"

Daryl scratched at the spiky island of stubble on his chin, Michonne's eyes grew serious as the humour abruptly left.

"We need a way of knowin' how this place operates. Michonne showed me a way inside, we need a way of searching the place without being seen"

"We got those grenades, we could use em if things get bad" Daryl suggested

"We need a way of gettin Glenn and Maggie out without startin somethin. Those men, that town, they look like they wouldn't stand for any bullshit"

"It's the Governor that's the problem. Not the people" Michonne added. Her voice quietly monotone.

Rick thought over her statement. "I don't want to start anythin or attack innocent people, but Maggie and Glenn are my priority"

"When we goin? Daryl asked.

"As soon as we can. We don't even know if their alive" There was a sadness to Rick's voice. Michonne could see the sincere worry written all over his face.

"I can't see a reason why he would kill them" She offered

"We need to keep watch tonight. In case their lookin for the prison"

Daryl nodded. "I'll go" He left the canteen, turning to sneak one last glance towards Michonne.

"It's gettin late. You really should be turnin in for the night. Tomorrow's gonna be a busy day. I'll take you back to your cell" Rick stood up, dusting down his shirt with his hands.

"Your not going to eat anything?"

He stopped by the door, turning to face her with suspicion.

"Not hungry much these days" He replied, intrigued by her concern. The fact of it was Rick didn't always remember to eat. Snice the death of his wife his mind was always looking for distractions and those distractions were sometimes more important than his own needs.

There were a lot of needs that Rick chose to ignore.

"Have something to eat with me, then we can go to bed"

Did he really just hear that right?

She must have seen the blush spreading throughout his cheeks, the raised eyebrow. He averted his eyes almost too quickly.

Michonne smiled warmly, showing just a hint of perfectly straight teeth.

"That sounded better in my head than it did out loud"

Rick chuckled, his eyes looking to the ground.

"You should really eat though" Her face hardened with seriousness.

He decided to give in and join Michonne on the bench. He stepped towards her, a symbol of his improving mental state until the ghostly image of Lori appeared sinisterly above on the warden's watch floor.

Rick froze, his eyes deliberately avoiding the vision.

Michonne could sense something from the leader's actions. She turned to look but nothing was there, only further confirming her original concerns.

The vision stood, arms outstretched against the raillings. White dress a strong contrast to the surrounding darkness. The face was almost a dark pit of empty space, framed by layers of curly jet ink hair. It was beyond intimidating, it was pure insanity.

"Rick?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose. Willing the disturbing image away by a single shake of his head.

"Let's get you in the cell" He finally said.

Michonne could only nod.

Following Rick from the canteen she looked back one last time towards the celling, what on earth did he just see?


	3. Bargain

_hi guys, so sorry for long delay. Hope you enjoy this chapter. The upcoming chapters will be a lot more Richonne based._

 **Let the right one in**

Chapter Three: Bargain

* * *

Daryl stood statue still in the watch tower, his tired eyes surveying the land like a bird of prey hunting.

The archer knew it was getting late from the slight chill in the air and occasional sound of bats in a near by tree. He was almost about to turn in for the night. His eyes felt heavy, exhausted, until something moved in the distance, snatching his attention sharply back to the present.

He grabbed for the binoculars still tied around his neck and peered through the lens, searching manically for the disturbance.

It was hard to make out at first in the darkness. At one point he thought that walkers had somehow made their way into the yard, that thought was short lived.

The silhouettes were of people, human people, moving urgently towards the gated fence. Daryl looked again, trying desperately to make out their faces but the darkness was beyond dominant. He decided to arm himself with the bullet proof attire that was kept in the tower for situations such as this, and move towards the fence, crossbow engaged.

When he reached the gate a familiar voice called out to him, it was Glenn.

* * *

"Did anyone follow you?"

Rick's tone was hard to make out as they stood facing each other in the canteen. There was definitely relief, although an undercurrent of worry was hard not to detect.

"No one followed us" Glenn replied, deliberately emphasizing his annoyance with the leader. He and Maggie had barely made it out alive, Rick's concern was not the best timed.

Rick obviously noticed the subtleties because he looked up and apologised, he meant no offensive.

"Sorry. It's just we've been told this Governor is bad news"

"Damn right he's bad news!" Glenn spat.

"We were lucky to get out"

That sentence hung in the air between the four of them, a divide in understanding of what the couple had been through at Woodbury. Rick was reluctant to ask, he wondered if now was the right time, Glenn seemed irritated rather than scared.

Only Rick and Daryl knew of their return. The rest of the group were in their cells, oblivious. Daryl had alerted Rick the moment Glenn and Maggie had ventured towards the prison, relieved to find the leader still awake.

"They'll be shearchin for us" Maggie stated, her voice jittery "I guarantee it"

"This Michonne...if she knows the Governor...can we trust her?" Glenn asked.

Rick looked to his boots as he thought over the question, unfortunately there was no right answer.

"I hope so" Was all he could manage.

This response hardly filled Glenn with confidence, he huffed in annoyance, taking Rick by surprise.

"Well you better know, because this town, this guy, they'll be looking for the prison and he won't stop"

Rick was disturbed by this information, he stepped closer to Glenn, closing the distance.

"Wait, they know of the prison?" he asked.

"He forced us to tell him. We had no choice. He tied us up and set walkers on us, he..." Glenn stopped mid sentence. It was almost as if the next words were too painful, too poisonous to speak.

Rick squeezed Glenn's shoulder in reassurance. "Hey, you did what you had to do. Your'e back here now, that's all that matters"

* * *

The next morning Glenn and Maggie were reunited with the others. Warm hugs of affection were passed between the group as they welcomed them back with much relief. Hershel was beyond relieved to find his daughter safe and unharmed. He couldn't put into words the gratitude he felt towards Glenn for protecting his eldest, although he could tell more had went down at Woodbury than the couple were letting on.

Michonne stood at length watching quietly, almost not there. A small hint of a smile flickered across her lips as she watched the group reunite. She was touched by how happy they were to see one another, a genuine respect for each member was apparent.

She wondered what her place within the group would be if she did happen to stay here for the long haul, she hoped she could.

Rick introduced Michonne to the returning members who greeted her with much suspicion. Glenn asked her if she had any intention of returning to Woodbury, to which she replied no.

Rick then wasted no time reminding her in front of everyone, that this set up was only temporary. His stare bore down into her eyes like an electric current. Sparks of heat flying off between the pair as their eyes met. Michonne searched his face.

His stance was aggressive, his body tense with certainty but his eyes gave him away. They were kind eyes, Michonne decided. Eyes which tired desperately to convey a message that the leader didn't quite believe himself.

Maybe he was trying to keep face in front of his group? Whatever his reasons, Michonne was not convinced just yet.

* * *

The next couple of days at the prison felt tense. A heavy atmosphere thick with worry had surrounded the building like an unrelenting fog, sapping everyone of their energy.

The group knew it was only a matter of time before the Governor would eventually find them.

Glenn had reassured Rick that the prison's whereabouts were still unknown to the Governor, that he and Maggie had managed to escape before those details were given.

Rick however was on the brink. His mind was like a pool of deep conflicting thoughts. One moment he was speaking coherently to Hershel about their situation and the next he was relapsing back into a fragile state where he chased visions his mind gave life to.

The group could see their leader unravelling before them. This new stress beat down onto Rick's shoulders like a crushing weight he couldn't shake off and his sanity was the price.

Everyone apart from Hershel was giving Rick the space he needed, too frightened of speaking out against the madness and making his situation potentially worse.

Hershel however did not see it this way. He was growing agitated, tired with the leader's reluctance to see sense and he chose his moment wisely.

* * *

Michonne was perched on her bunk in the holding cell, cleaning her boots when she heard the deep, male voices through the doorway. She stood up and moved towards the cell's door intrigued.

She pined her ear between a row of bars, the cold chill of the metal shocking her skin.

She could instantly tell the voices belonged to Hershel and Rick. The two men were engaged in a heated discussion. Hershel's voice grew louder as he made his point, refusing to back down.

"This needs to stop now!" The older man barked, his tone was far from sympathetic.

"Now we've all given you the time ya needed, the space ya needed but this has to stop now. No more runnin' off...or hidin' in the basement. There's a real threat now Rick from the outside that doesn't involve walkers. We need to fight for this place and we can't do it without our leader"

Michonne struggled to hear anything else. Her breathing slowed in an attempt to hear over the faintest noise, but nothing. Suddenly Rick stomped round the corner from the shadowy doorway, his face was pained with lines of annoyance.

He looked across from the passageway, meeting Michonne's eyes through the metal bars just as she retreated, hastily back to the centre of the cell.

Rick was silent for some time until a slight smile tugged at his lips. He tilted his head in her direction, blue eyes penetrating.

"Were you eves droppin'?"

Michonne felt like a child who had been caught red handed, butterflies raced in her stomach and she wondered why.

"Was kinda hard not to"

Rick sighed, running a hand through his mess of unruly curls.

"I need you to help me with somethang?"

It was more a question than a demand and Michonne was happy to oblige. Rick edged towards the cell, tugging the key from his pocket he unlocked the door, allowing her to step outside. Michonne found it odd how Rick requested help but didn't trust her enough to allow her freedom in the prison. He was becoming more relaxed around her, that much was true, but she couldn't help but wonder if keeping her locked up was somehow just for show.

"Me and Carl, we've been plantin' veg in the yard"

"I know" she responded.

"Anyway...we kind of need to get finished today and I was wonderin' if you could check the snares for me?"

Michonne was shocked, utterly shocked. Maybe Rick had lost his mind after all.

"Hold on a mintue...you want me to go outside the prison gates...on my own and check the snares?"

Rick nodded.

"Your'e full of contradictions aren't you? Aren't you worried that I'll run off?"

The leader looked up from the floor, hands perched firmly on narrow hips.

"You run now, makes no odds. We're already in trouble and least if you do I'll know where your loyalties lie"

He was testing her, giving her an opportunity to head back to Woodbury and confirm his suspicions.

Michonne's face hardened in the dim light, Rick was affording her the chance to prove herself. He wanted her to stay?

"I'll go now"

Rick watched her walk, the sway to those shapely hips had him fascinated.

* * *

Michonne searched for the snares located in the patch of forest outside the prison gates. Rick had told her to keep watch for walkers, but assured her the area had been free of them for days after he and Daryl had cleared it for hunting.

It was oddly peaceful in the forest. Only the sounds of crickets and chirp of birds surrounded her, no moans or wails from the undead.

She found the first snare with a rabbit held firm in it's deathly clutches, a fresh kill from this morning maybe. She couldn't help but feel sorry for the creature as she freed it from the trap, placing it inside the bag Rick had gave her.

Suddenly a sharp point dug into her lower back, the sound of feet crunching through dry leaves startled her and she knew without doubt she was in trouble.

"Well looky here"

That voice. She knew it.

The tone was anything but friendly, the manner patronising.

"Why don't ya turn round now, let me look at ya"

Michonne winched. She was unarmed and vulnerable, outside the prison yard with no way of alerting Rick and his group.

She turned slowly on the heels of her boots, imprinting marks through the dried mud until she was face to face with the stranger. Only he wasn't a stranger, unfortunately.

Merle glared into her emotionless eyes. His lined face soaked in sunlight pulled into a smug grin, revealing stained teeth.

"Well girl, what are the odds of findin ya out here"

She could now clearly see the knife attached like an extra limb to the contraception where his left hand used to be.

"Me and you have some unfinished business, don't ya think?"

Michonne wanted to run from him, turn and head back towards the prison but she knew he would follow her.

Without warning Merle grabbed Michonne's arm and pined her so her back was flush against his chest, the blade of the knife once again digging into her dark skin.

"Looks like I've found the two things I've been lookin' for"

* * *

Merle pushed Michonne towards the large gates of the prison, calling out for whoever to open them.

Rick was tending to crops in the yard when he heard the bellowing from outside, he ran towards the gates with haste, already sensing something was wrong. To find Merle standing there, still very much alive, knife to Michonne's throat with an equal look of shock, was the last thing the leader had expected.

"Officer friendly!?" Merle announced, his grip tightening around Michonne's neck like a python's coil.

"We have a lot to talk 'bout"

* * *

Rick and Merle sat facing each other in the canteen, the atmosphere thick with tension.

The leader wondered what this discovery would mean for the rest of his group, especially Daryl. Everyone had suspected Merle to be dead and he was bound to still be pissed off at the ex cop for handcuffing him to a roof, not one of Rick's finest decisions.

"My brother? He alive?" Merle was the first to break the silence, snapping Rick from his thoughts.

Rick nodded slowly, meeting the other man's eyes from across the table.

"Is he here?"

"Yeah"

Merle's shoulders seemed to relax, a genuine look of relief crossed his features momentarily before he hunched forwards on his seat. The mad glint to his eyes only reminded Rick of the live wire Merle truly was. Untrustworthy at best.

"How do you know Michonne?"

"That girl Michonne is one of the reasons I'm here. The Governor...a man who makes ya worst nightmare look like Christmas, wants her back"

"You work for the Governor?" Everything was starting to make sense.

"Yep. He put a roof over my head, makes a change from being handcuffed to one"

Rick held Merle's gaze, he wasn't prepared to apologise for their awkward history.

"And my baby brother must of known you did that...and still he stays by ya side like a loyal fuckin' dog"

"That's not my concern, why does the Governor want Michonne?"

Merle leaned in close to Rick's face, stale breath filling the air.

"Revenge" he sneered.

"That bitch killed something precious to him. Thing is, now I know where ya lil' hideout is and all it takes is one woman. One woman's life for all the lives in ya prison. Hand her over and all this goes away. Pizza boy and his girlfriend will be safe, ya'll be left alone"

Rick bit at his lip, the prospect of Giving Michonne up to the man she so obviously hated was not something he was prepared to do.

"And what if I don't"

Merle laughed, a sharp, ugly sound.

"You can kiss ya handsome ass and prison goodbye"

Rick snorted.

"He's got tanks, weapons, trained soldiers. Looks like all ya got is a few guns and a lost mind officer friendly"

"What will he do to her?"

Merle shrugged. "Play with her...hurt her...she'll probably be the sick bastards play thing. Hell, now Maggie's back here he'll be lookin' for a new one"

Rick rubbed his face, understanding now the trauma the couple must have gone through at Woodbury.

"How can I be sure he'll keep his word"

"You can't"

The leader thought over his options. The truth was he hardly knew Michonne, or where her loyalties actually lied. Even if Rick said no to Merle's sick proposition, the prison and his family would then be targets to a war they hadn't even started. If Rick did hand her over, at least he could say he tired to keep his family safe.

"Alright" his voice was quiet, hushed, almost in disbelief from his own cowardice.

"Well shit...your as cold as ice officer friendly"

* * *

Michonne was pacing her cell like a caged animal when Rick's silhouette startled her in the low light. Their eyes met through the bars and Rick had to look away.

The quilt was already too much.

Rick unlocked the cell, stepping inside he hooked long fingers through the loops of his worn jeans, feeling like something that had just crawled from a gutter.

"I'm sorry but you have to go back to Woodbury. You can't stay here"

Michonne's face was hard to read as she watched the leader fidget with his belt. He looked almost regretful, disappointed maybe?

"Why?"

 _Because I'm a fucking coward._

 _"_ This was only temporary. Thank you for your help but you need to leave. There's a car waiting for you. Merle will take you back"

Michonne felt like crying, the sting of tears already bubbling. She kept face though, how could she think that Rick would be any different when it came to his own safety. This world was nothing more that a survival game, where kindness could end up killing you.

She looked to the ground and nodded, her luck had finally run out.

* * *

It was quiet when Michonne made her way slowly towards the car where Merle waited. The other prison members were busy with their daily tasks to acknowledge her leaving. She wanted desperately to say goodbye to Hershel and thank him for tending to her leg with such kindness, unfortunately it was a missed opportunity.

Rick escorted her gingerly towards the car with not a word spoken. He opened the passenger door, deliberately avoiding her eyes. She slid in next to Merle who started the engine, the car roared to life.

"All the best Michonne" Rick said, this time locking eyes with her. She couldn't maintain the contact for long though, part of her wanting to kill him.

The car then rolled towards the gates where Daryl waited ready to open them.

Merle wound down his window, calling out to his brother as the gates opened.

"Ya sure you don't want to come back with me little brother?"

"Can't Merle, sorry, good luck brother"

* * *

Rick felt like a monster as he walked aimlessly around the prison, dragging his exhausted body from cell block to cell block.

He hated with a passion the person he was becoming. Someone so weak, someone who only cared what mattered to them. The more he thought about what could possibly be in store for Michonne the more he regretted his decision. He found Hershel outside in the yard. The old man was hunched over the pig sty, scattering a generous helping of food into the pen.

"I've made a bad call" Rick said from nowhere, startling Hershel from his position on the ground. He stood up to face the leader, who's eyes were glazed with worry.

"Michonne...I've handed her over to the Governor in exchange for our safety. God knows what he'll do to her. I can't...live with this. What have I done?"

"When did they leave?" Hershel asked.

"bout...ten minutes ago" Rick answered looking to his watch.

"There's still time to stop this Rick"

* * *

Michonne sat like a shell, her face emotionless and cold. The journey so far had been bathed in silence, neither attempting to speak to the other.

Merle however was finding the silence irritating, he turned to Michonne, studying her face with menacing eyes.

"Ya seem awful quiet there girl, you almost seem happy to be going back"

Michonne didn't answer, choosing to focus on the road ahead.

"Officer Friendly's a piece of work ain't he? sellin' you off to save his own ass, now you know where his loyalties lie"

"Just like you know where your brother's lie" Michonne mocked.

"Little brother's confused is all. That prick Rick wouldn't think of him when shit hits the fan, the bastard cuffed me to a roof for Christ sake"

"I can see why"

Merle turned to watch her, his annoyance growing be the second.

"Iv'e seen them together, Rick respects him, trusts him. Can you say the same for the Governor" Michonne asked, sarcasm evident.

"Why do you trust the Governor anyway? You really think he cares about you?" she added.

"The man put a roof over my head girl when I was down and out"

"I know, he did the same for me, but when we get back to Woodbury he will kill me. He changes like the wind. You think he respects you...he's using you like a lap dog, he couldn't give a shit about you or anyone else in that community, why don't you do want you think is right, rather than what he tells you to do"

Merle thought over her statement, the truth hurt and she knew it just as well as he did. There was still some sense of decency in Merle's tormented soul. He understood that handing Michonne off to the Governor like a pretty toy was just as bad as what the creep had in store for her. Merle knew who the Governor was. He had seen it. Like Jackal and Hyde the man could turn, a psychopathic leader intent on only serving his own selfish desires.

Throughout their troubled history Merle had always respected Michonne, he would even go so far as to say he liked her. Could he hand her off and let her rot under the control of the Governor, was he really that cold?

The car suddenly stopped to an abrupt halt. Merle reached passed Michonne to the passenger door, slinging it open while untying her bound hands.

"What are you doing?" She asked in confusion.

"Get out" he ordered.

"Ya on ya own now girl. That bastard can find a new toy"

He tossed her Katana from the back seat.

Michonne was shocked, she could only nod in apprehension as Merle smiled before winking, watching in disbelief as he continued on his way.

* * *

Michonne was heading slowly back to prison, the only place she knew to be even remotely safe.

The sound of a car's engine was heard in the distance and Michonne was not about to take any chances. She ducked into the bushes lined by the road, watching with dark eyes as the car rolled to a gentle stop.

The man who got out looked to be searching for something.

Rick.


End file.
